2775
by Little Miss Sorrow
Summary: ..."Mac looked up again from his work and noted that the time was well past midnight. He sighed - he hadn’t intended to stay so long. Then again, he never he did..."


DISCLAIMER: Stella and Mac belongs to CBS.

Authors Note: Back again from a long writers block. This is a story that I started som 18 months ago, it grew from an idea about what I would have told a much loved friend if his partner were to die. The thought grew and I started to wonder what Stella would say to Mac in season one. I don't think I ever did them justice with my first stories as I hardly knew them, so in a way, this is also a 'forgive me' story to my to favourite carachters to write about. I feel as if I know them better now.

Please enjoy.

* * *

**"2775"**

_by:  
Little Miss Sorrow_

"Just one more minute," Mac kept telling himself, "just another hour" or "just another look".

They were all excuses for him – to not leave his office, to not go home, to not interact with the people around him, to not feel and to stop and think. Every minute of the day he missed her. During his waking hours, she was in every picture on the walls around him and in every face of the women he met in his line of work, and during his sleeping hours she came to him in his dreams, more beautiful and alive than she'd ever been in reality. His shrink had told him that his mind painted up a mental Icon with her as a saint; he was told that seeing her as a perfect person made the loss of her seem easier to handle. He wasn't sure he agreed, losing her was still the single most painful thing he had ever experienced. The passing of his mother had been painful but he had survived; but now he wasn't even sure he could do that.

Mac looked up again from his work and noted that the time was well past midnight. He sighed - he hadn't intended to stay so long. Then again, he never he did. He just ended up never leaving this place. He'd sleep on the couch in his office and change in the morning in the locker-room, hoping against hope that no-one would notice his red eyes or his crumpled suit. He rose from his chair and turned off the lamp. He walked to one of the glass walls in his office and opened the blinds to let in some of lab's artificial light. He followed suit with the remaining three before walking out of the office and heading for the locker rooms.

As he changed, his stomach reminded him of its displeasure at being ignored with a growl. He decided to grab a bite at the deli a few blocks down.

--

He chose a seat on one of the barstools by the counter. He knew the owner very well, and the owner perhaps knew him better still. He had been coming here ever since she had died. He knew that there were places that were a lot closer to the lab, but he still chose this place - this deli which gave him some sort of privacy and anonymity.

Granted, the owner knew him both by profession and name, but in some way it was still very different from the relations he had with the people he worked with. They pitied him, felt sorry for him and kept telling him to let it all out, to cry and be angry, but the owner didn't do that, because she knew - for she had walked the same lonely road as he had for these past three years.

--

The doorbell chimed behind him announcing another customer. Mac could feel the gush of cold air coming in with the new customer.

"You've been coming here a lot more often lately" a familiar voice said. "Is something bothering you?"

He should have known Stella would know that he was here. Nothing slipped past that woman's knowledge and usually Mac was OK with that, but not today. This, the wish to be alone, won out over the choice of talking to his partner.

Maybe if he flat out ignored her, he thought, she might take the hint. But knowing Stella he understood it was a lost cause. Out of the corner of his eye, he could se her taking a seat next to him, "Ok, you don't want to talk today, that's fine. But Mac, you do have to talk to me someday."

He fought the urge to laugh – so typical of Stella. She would never have let him drown in his own despair. She would drag out every word and every thought, until he felt that there was nothing else to give up. He was grateful for that, because he knew himself well enough to know that it was what he needed. But not today, dear God not today.

Stella's voice cut through his musings, and he hear her order for two.

"We'll have two turkey sandwiches Sally, and no mayo for me," she said to the bar owner.

Sally smiled and shook her head "Do you ever eat anything else, Stella?"

For the first time since she had entered the deli Mac looked at Stella:

"Do you come here often?" he asked. He didn't think anyone from the lab – except him - would venture this far away for just a sandwich.

She did not look at him, but her curls bounced as she nodded.

"Ever since you started to go here," she said softly, "I come here once a week to catch up with Sally and to reassure myself that you're doing ok"

Mac opened his mouth to protest that she was invading his privacy but Stella cut him off, turning her head sharply curls dancing around her head. "You don't talk to me anymore, I don't know what's going on inside your head. Not like I used to, anyway. So I have to talk to the people who do know."

Her voice was tired, as she continued. "You weren't the only one to lose someone that day, Mac. 2774 other people died, how many mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, girlfriends, boyfriends and old friends would sitting on barstools in New York delis in the middle of the night if they had shut their other friends and loved ones out?" She shook her head and Mac could feel her desperation. He watched her as she accepted their orders from Sally with a small nod.

His friend continued, "You have to let me in, Mac." She looked into his eyes. "Because the way things are right now, I might as well have lost more than one good friend to those towers."

With that she turned to eat her sandwich. Mac's head was a jumble of thoughts. He knew that Stella had finally laid all of her cards on the table – she had nothing left to say. It was all unto him now. He could meet her halfway or he could stay where he was while she drifted further away from him. He knew that she'd been making a massive effort to reach out to him – and for all that, he hadn't treated her well in return.

"Mac?"

Her voice once again cut through his thoughts. He gave a slight start and looked at her. She'd finished her sandwich and was getting ready to leave. She gave his arm a light squeeze, before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I'm gonna head home now, you come find me when you're ready to talk"

With that she sweeps out of the door and again leaves Mac alone with his thoughts. Swirling his spoon in the cooling coffee he tries to figure out what to say to Stella, he know he can't settle for some meek half truth but he is not sure he want Stella to know the full extent of his conflicting emotions.

When he finally knows what to say to Stella, the darkness outside is starting to shift into the cool pastels of a bright summer day. In the early hours of morning Mac makes his way towards his friends flat. Conscious that he will wake her, he stops by a bakery to by some fresh bread, it's the only apology he can think of to an Italian woman.

Stella answers the door on his second ring, her hair askew and hiding a yawn. Still she smiles at him as she step a side to let him in. She lead the way to her kitchen, he remember that she once told him it was the reason she bought this flat. She makes strong mocha in that little aluminium brewer he got for her in Italy many years ago, while he takes out the marmalade form her fridge. Putting the marmalade on Stella's table, the words long overdue finally comes to him.

"I felt guilty, I feel guilty, for surviving you know" he stops for a moment "She asked me to drive her there, she didn't like driving in downtown, and I was called off on a case early so I dropped her off early, she weren't supposed to have been there when the towers fell" Mac turned to see Stella focused on him urging him on "so, by proxy, I killed her"

Stella reached for him but he pulled away, "How am I going to live with that?" he asked, tears in his voice.

"I don't know, Mac, I don't know" Stella put the coffee on the table "All I know is that Clair would never have held you responsible for what happened"

Stella looked at the man sitting in front of her, shoulders slouched, and she wondered how he had manage to fool her for three years that he was reasonably fine. She wished that she had had the courage to have this talk with him three years previously then things would have been so much easier but, at the time, she'd been afraid that it would only have made things worse.

"It's still so hard to wake up every morning without her beside me" Mac whispered, his voice thick "I see her everywhere around me, I can feel her, but I can't touch her"

He cried, Stella could se the silver streaks falling down his cheeks, and at that moment she knew she would do anything to ease his pain away. Reaching across the table Stella brushed away his tears, but new ones took their place. She had thought she would be the strong one, that that was what Mac needed but despite herself she found that she was crying too.

"I feel guilty for throwing out all of her things all of our memories, but at the time, I thought that if she were out of sight she would be out of mind" Mac smiled through his tears "I was wrong you know, by not seeing the pictures of her I can remember them so much clearly" wiping his tears he continued "I remembered that time when we were down at the beach on Coney Island, it must be over 20 years ago be cause we had just started to go out. And I bought her an ice cream but it was so hot that it kept melting and running all over her but she just smiled. I knew there and then I was going to marry her"

Stella smiled at him, wiping her own tears. Loosing herself in the memories of their youth together.

"Of course" Mac continued "it took me almost ten years to convince her that she should marry me, do you remember?"

Stella smiled and nodded, she did remember, she had been so jealous of them back then, whishing for someone to share her life with. As it where, she hade never found it, but in a way Stella mused, she had ended up sharing her life with Mac.

"Healing is a long process, this will not just go away Mac, but by remembering her, I think you will eventually heal" Stella looked at the man in front of her "it's all about living here and now"

Mac took her hand across the table, and looked her in the eyes.

"It's like what you said to me once about your childhood" he said "think only of the past as it's remembrance brings you happiness"

Stella smiled:

"Remember her Mac, see her before you Mac and talk to her…" she wiped away her tears "…and tell me what she would have said to you if she had had the time"

"Keep goin' Macky, keep pushin' and don't you dare cry, 'cause ya know it ain't gonna make a difference" Mac said quietly mimicking Claire's southern drawl.

He gave a faint smile, suddenly his future seemed just a little bit brighter, and finally he felt as if he could let Claire have the peace she needed, he had Stella to keep him straight.

* * *

Remember that even if you feel all alone, there's always someone to hold your back, I've found my Stella...

With Love  
LMS


End file.
